Death and Legacy
by Alucard6094
Summary: What if defeating Galbatorix came at a cost. For, what if the the king left Alagaesia with so much destruction,that those who spent there whole live in an attempt to defeat the mad king will never be the same again. And because of it Eragon, Saphira, Arya, Murtagh, and Nasuada's will have to face the greatest enemy, they never though even suspect. Each other.
1. Ch 1: Halls of the King

**AN:**** Hello, first off: Disclaimer I own nothing as all source material and inspiration belongs to Christopher Paolini. So this is my first FF and I'm really looking forward to work on this so I hope ya'll enjoy my work. **

**Also this chapter is super short, as the story progresses it will lengthen up, I just want to get my first chapter out there and get used to the format and all.**

**Last: A fewer pointer this story start, as you can tell, right at the end of book 4 and will just take off from there. My stories are usually darker than what I would deem the norm so if you're not okay with characters dying then this story might not before for you, and if the deaths upset you i understand they would upset me too, and I'm the one who killed them. And sorry for the bad grammar, trying to work on that. Review!**

**_Halls of the King_**

The sound of battle could be heard even from within the walls of the dark citadel, the force of the empire and Varden, waging unrelenting war against one another. Though it was muffled by the dark marble and granite of the surrounding floors and columns, the clash of to empires was making its presence known to the all of Alagaesia. Its magnitude only pressing itself into Eragon's mind as to the success of his current and final mission. Pushing such thoughts away Eragon looked upon his surroundings as himself, Arya, and his eleven guards walk through the grand, there be it dark, halls of Galbatorix's castle.

The black marble of the walls were garbed in elaborate tapestries and paintings of old. Eragon look around towards the wall in a state of disbelieve as main of the decorations showed the history of the riders. Most were paints of the great dragon wars, or of the original Eragon and his role as first rider, but some about many other insignificant events before the fall. Though what caught Eragon's attention most of all was a grand and long painting above the archway they were approaching. The elaborate paint was beautiful; depicting, in chronologic fashion, the events leading up to and after the fall. In all sight through the painting seemed to be dedicated to three main figure of the fall.

Primarily Galbatorix himself being the main figure, showing his seize of control over the order of the riders and leading the 13 Forsworn and the dragons. These images showed Galbatorix from a much different view than of what Eragon had known of the man. Not as a crazy young rider whom lost his dragon and betrayed his own kind, but a leader of movement that brought to seek peace while discarding the ways of the old order. _"Be careful young one" _Umaroth spook up,_ "Galbatorix had a way to twist not just the past but his own current image of his actions, for he did not gain strengthening numbers through his power, but his words. Nor did his mind just have strengthen in words but also in intellect, for he bested myself and my rider through smarts and trickery" _Umaroth retried into the confined of his own mind as Eragon was once again shock at the dragon words. For dragons are a prideful race, to have one once so powerful admit his own fault was uncommon. Turning his attention back toward the painting Eragon focused on the next images.

The second focus was Morzan, chief leader of the Forsworn, but much unlike with the kings depiction much of Morzans treachery towards the other riders, as Eragon had learned of it, was apparent here. Next to Morzan, in his latter diction, showed him with a cloaked woman, whom he assumed was he and Murtagh's mother, as she bore the mark of the Black Hand.

Still, the last person to be shown was that of Brom. Eragon was utterly taken back by the appereance of his own father in the halls of Galbatorix as much as Brom was a destructive force toward Galbatorix and his Forsworn. Even more unlikely Broms depictions, like with Morzan, showed no romanticism of Brom's deeds, but show the true events of his life during the fall and up until his killing of Morzan. Eragon turned his head to look at Arya and the elves whom as well stood with a look of uncertainty and disbelief.

"_It seems that even the mighty elves are at a loss for what Galbatorix's intentions are within this single painting"_ Saphira snorted quietly _"Such does not matter, tis but a piece of color and design nothing more. If that egg-breaker wish to see himself as a savior then fine be it, for he will not be of this world much longer. Still," _She paused,_ "I to cannot understand why the mad king would have depicted Brom's life either." _Saphira moved forward as if to gain great understand of the full meaning of the piece.

"I do not understand" Eragon spoke quietly "Why would the like of Brom be immortalized in the halls of Galbatroix?"

"I am glad you asked such my, young rider!"


	2. Ch 2: Meaning of Power

**AN:**** Hello again, first off: Disclaimer I own nothing as all source material and inspiration belongs to Christopher Paolini. **

**Well here is chapter 2 which is notable longer, as I mentioned before. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it, I can't wait for the next couple chapters as Eragon, Arya, and Saphira go through hell with Galbatorix. On another note, sorry for the late update, I planned to update about a week ago but **_**school**_**! Hope you like this chapter it's a lot of expression dumb, but I need to explain and set-up some things about my story and its going to continue into the other chapter so sorry if you don't like that, also I'm very open to ****questions**** and suggestions so please ask and tell, I love foreshadowing and try to use it well or at least I try to so I can help those who want to know or are really into the planned story. Hope you enjoy! More to come! Review! _**

Meaning of Power

"I am glad you asked such my, young rider!"

A deep voice boomed throughout the halls, its volume being magnified off the surrounding walls. Its origins was in front of them, it seem that the words themselves were laced with poison and venom, Eragon could only implicate there were spoken from the dark king himself. The dark quality of the halls made it impossible to even make out that they had already wondered so deep into the castle. _Have we been in here that long_, Eragon thought to himself. Time had taken a back seat, as adrenaline and battle made time move slower than normal. Currently Eragon and his companions could not see the king or his throne, making the elves unnerved as even there advances sense could not see the forward surroundings. The dark consoled all around it as it the pitch black darkened into nothingness. I created an atmosphere of pure vile darkness; the shadows of black seem to move as if alive as they quickly surrounded the warriors. As the shadows and darkness began to consume them it stop as if on command leaving his group untouched. One of the Elvin members cast a spell, emitting a bright unnatural beacon of light, but its light did nothing as the darkness around quite literally absorb the orb into its folds, causing the room to remain dark. "But these are no normal halls, but my very throne room." The kings voice said, it again echo through what a moment ago had been a hall.

From there torches and lanterns sparked revealing the grand throne room of Galbatorix's rain as the shadows and darkness lurked away under Galbatorix. "I thank you for making such hast, for I myself do grow impenitence in my elden age." The king himself sat upon a solid marble throne, but unlike the rest of the hall, this was of chalk white color with the black marble of the walls and columns as detail, as it created beautiful webs of design along the white. The king sat relaxed upon the throne, his crimson black and red armor gleaming in the light with much the same dark atmosphere as the room. He bore a dark red cloak and matching gloves as a black and red crown set upon his brow, its tips spring out as if it were sung out of a solid block of metal. The king's slanted posture did nothing but send shivers down Eragon's spine as the dark king seemed not to care of their entry into his castle and other their intentions to end him. He simply sat there staring towards Saphira and Eragon with marvel, as at last _his_ order of riders would be restored.

What was strange to Eragon was that Galbatorix had no blade or weapon draw as all but a strange staff, which stood by itself upright not a foot length away from him, as if held by a spell to stand on its own. The spear drew to a sharp point much like a spear head, but had two other points coming from its side to make it from like a common pitch-fork. Full covered in shining silver the staff seemed to be glowing as if power radiated from within it.

The elves quickly drew there blades while other began to chant and weave there spells as to strike at the king, but just as quickly as they moved, they were thrown to the side of the hall as Galbatorix uttered a silent spell. There body landed in an open door way as all but Arya and Saphira stood beside him, the doors sealing them within.

"Now, I believe that the three of us have business to attend; now that we don't have to deal without interruption from those blasted elves." The king let out a dark laugh, caring the same tone and amplitude as when he spoke. "Oh course I mean no offense towards yourself, Princess Arya, but your race has become a thorn in my side I would much like to pluck." The king spoke with a stern tone, replacing his more charming tone from when he addressed Eragon before.

Arya moved forward holding securely to the Dauthdaert, "Your time is over for the people of…" Arya was cut off as once again Galbatorix utter several spells sending both Arya and Saphira toward the side of the hall binding them in magic as they could not move from the positions all the while he gaze was locked on that of Arya. Eragon's blood boiled; instinctually he reached out with his mind towards them only to hit a barrier, likely from Galbatroix spell.

Eragon drew Brisingr, from his side charging at the dark king, "For the riders of old and new!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the hall much as Galbatroix's had before. The kings made no move to block his advance or use magic to stop him, nor did he seem to even care as Eragon closed the remaining space between them. Bringing Brisingr above his head Eragon slashed down across the king's chest, only to see the king reach for his staff-spear, blocking Brisingr. As the two weapons collided Eragon drew back to strike again, preparing his mind for a mental attack from the king. _"Glaedr-elda, Umaroth-elda are you with me" _Eragon asked before moving his blade. "_Yes young one let us rid these lands of this false king's dark rule"_ all the Eldunarí's reasoned together.

But Brisingr never left its mark; the blade seed to be fused onto the dark king's staff-spear. Eragon put all of his strength into pulling his blade back into his control. The Dark king let out a booming laugh his lips parting into a beaming smile. "You think you can simply waltz into my home, and smite me with a blade. I had heard many things of your reputation young rider, but to think you were this foolish, it is to be saying a mighty thing. For I to over estimated your prowess. I thought you would at least be smart than your foolish brother. But it all seems too good to be true; I shall enjoy your development under my care, for such errors in judgment are inacceptable."

Eragon gave another heave all to no avail as with all his might his blade would do nothing. Eragon responded to the king, his words finding the same poise that he had used on all his enemies. "You cannot even fight me as a man no less a rider; for you must rely on tricks and magic to do your work. I see you have as much honor as you always have." With those words the dark king roses from his throne, his staff-spear and Brisingr still interlocked. With a swift motion the king moved the staff-spear to his side, sending both Brisingr and Eragon to the ground as the blade finally gave away from the staff. Galbatroix lifted the staff-spear so that the tri-bladed end pointed towards Eragon. Pulling back his arm a bolt of crimson energy shot out from the staff, hitting Eragon square in the chest. Eragon's body flew back till it slammed into a pillar, Brisingr lodging in the tilled floor of the hall. His body burned as if he had been in battle for hours upon time, the blast had seemed to strike through his armor at his very soul. Arya open her mouth to speak or let out a yell, but no words came from her, nor Saphira whom tried desperately to move or do something as she watched helplessly as her soul mate was battered around like a common solider.

Eragon slid his arm around his leg to support himself as he leaned against the pillar that broke his travel. "You don't seem to understand the magnitude of what you are dealing with" Galbatorix's voice remained calm and sly over his obvious displeasure towards the rider. "I have had a century to expand my knowledge, for I am under the belief that knowledge is the key to power. You truly know little of this matter, for you think that power lies within Eldunarí. Such is true but there knowledge is limited to their time." Galbatorix reached Eragon, kneeling down to speak directly towards him. "I have done the unthinkable. I have found the, it. The great it, the very binding of magic. The Name of Names, yes, that power is mine! With it, all that I have ever thought of shall be accomplished." Galbatorix roses once more, walking around to present his words to both Arya and Saphira as well.

"The True Name is power, but it is not the power, this is power." The king held out his staff-spear. "The very power to reshape all and everything." The king walked towards Saphira and Arya still holding his staff-spear as if a walking sick. "The elves are not of this world, nor are the dragons. An order of old folk, the ancestors to your people, ruled a land far away from here. They lived far to the North of Alagaesia, their greatest enemy, dragons. But these dragons were much different than the dragons of our time. For these dragons were massive. So massive you could build a small city on the backs alone and large enough to even make Shur'kin look like a hatchling. These ancient enemies of the dragons were the Grey Folk; I'm guessing Orimis spoke off them in his teachings. They migrated here from their home lands after a war that destroyed most of their kind and all of the dragons. But of course the dragons were not all gone nor did they remain with their home lands."

"We know that the Grey Folk created the Name of all Names binding themselves to this magic and its language, this resulted in there destruction, for what is left became the current day elves of the forest. Starting his the entity of the Meneo Tree." The king turned back towards Eragon whom still remained on the ground. "The reason I state this, other than to educate those whom know nothing. Which Murtagh can attest I truly hate. Is because the Grey Folk won a war with dragon's grander than any of this land, without physical magic. That is a truly impossible feat, so I spent my 100 years trying to find the answer as to how they achieved this, for I though with that knowledge I could find the Name of all Names. But the case proved to be the opposite, for I found the Name before my knowledge of the results of how the Grey Folk's war with the Dragons was won. Ancient scripts of the shades and riders leaded me to that very origins of the Name, to the sight were it was created. This was the last known sight of the Grey Folk. And I learned of their grand power; for they did not have need for physical magic because it already flowed through their blood, but they could not access their own power. In turn they forge grand weapons to be able to use their own powers, these weapons were the factor that won them the war, but still only few remain with them after the war and during their travel here."

"So when they came here, the last remaining weapons were brought with them, only three remain of these might weapons. This is how I came to hold the mighty Trident of the Grey Folk; and with it and the Name of all Names I shall restores all the old order and the Varden has done to these lands." With this Galbatorix straighten himself over Eragon, whom was still recovering from the blast of power from Galbatorix's Trident. "But I find myself needing to thank you yet again, my young rider, for you have done me many services. Not only do you bring me the instrument of the rider's rebirth, in the form of your grand Saphira," the kings eyes moved towards Saphira looking over her large body, "but you have brought me the second of these weapons!" Galbatorix's eyes sifted down to Arya as she remained silent holding the Dauthdaert tightly to her chest. _It is over_. Eragon thought to himself, I failed.


End file.
